The moment those words left his mouth, the air inside the tent froze. Everyone’s expression changed—even “Li Ping,” who had been kneeling submissively, abruptly stilled the faint tremor in his throat and fell silent.
Jun Dingyuan’s expression flickered. He raised a hand and dismissed the guards outside the tent. With a heavy swish, the tent flap fell, shutting out the night wind and the surrounding commotion.
The four men inside were bathed in wavering candlelight, each harboring his own thoughts.
“What do you mean, Academy Head? What have I concealed?”
“If I intended to condemn you, I would have silently returned to the capital and reported this to His Majesty, rather than wait here in peace. General, you should know that I am not here to interrogate you.” Wen Zhuo lowered his lashes, his face touched by the warm glow of the candlelight, making him look like a statue of a god imbued with compassion and human warmth. “Just now, when I knocked Li Ping down, two objects fell from his robes. One was a celadon ink line reel, an essential tool for measuring lumber and manufacturing equipment. The other was the bowstring catch from a defensive crossbow. Am I mistaken?”
Jun Dingyuan said nothing. Even “Li Ping,” who had been kneeling humbly moments ago, raised his head and looked at Wen Zhuo.
All traces of fear and trembling had vanished from him. His eyes were as still as stars, and a powerful aura—like thunder gathering with unstoppable force—radiated from him.
Shen Zheng listened from the side, his expression gradually becoming more intriguing.
Modern manufacturing was highly advanced. He loved wandering through museums, and whenever he saw oddly shaped components unearthed from ancient sites, he could never figure out what they had been used for. Some were so obscure that even experts had never reached a consensus.
Were the crossbows used on the battlefield really so commonplace?
Wen Zhuo was a scholar who had spent years immersed in the classics. How had he managed to recognize one of those tiny components at a glance, in the darkness?
Clearly, however, Jun Dingyuan and Mo Shu had no leisure to ponder the matter. They were like two hunting leopards trapped in place, unable to move, waiting for Wen Zhuo to decide their fate.
Unhurriedly, Wen Zhuo’s gaze swept over “Li Ping’s” shabby coarse-cloth garments and the rough cloth strip binding his hair. “Your manner is refined, with the air of a scholar, yet your clothing is even poorer than that of an ordinary guard. I doubt General Jun, for all his frugality, would treat his closest aide so poorly. If I am not mistaken, you are a Mohist disciple, are you not?”
Shen Zheng’s brows shot up.
Mohists?!
The very school that had once stood alongside Confucianism as one of the two most prominent schools of thought during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, only to gradually vanish after the policy of “suppressing the hundred schools and elevating Confucianism above all others”?
Wen Zhuo continued, speaking even more plainly. “It is said that the Mohist Grand Master Meng Sheng once led all his disciples in defending a city, and they died there. The Mohists vanished thereafter. The disciples who survived later divided into three branches: Chu Mohism, Qi Mohism, and Qin Mohism. The first two disappeared without a trace, but the third, Qin Mohism, evolved into the ‘Mohist Hidden Spirit Sect,’ which has been secretly passed down to this day.”
“In the seventeenth year of Emperor Shunyuan’s reign, the Cao family of Qianzhou oppressed and brutalized the people, provoking the wrath of both Heaven and the populace. Unable to endure it any longer, the Mohist disciples rose in revolt. However, with the Cao family in control of the imperial court and the Crown Prince wielding tremendous influence, the Mohist Hidden Spirit Sect was branded an evil cult by the authorities and ruthlessly exterminated. The Mohist Grand Master Mo Xuli faced death without hesitation. When soldiers searched his home, they discovered a large quantity of weapons. As you know, this dynasty strictly forbids commoners from forging or concealing weapons; offenders are charged with treason. Thus, Mo Xuli was sentenced to have his entire family executed. I heard he had a son who was studying abroad at the time. After that, the boy’s whereabouts became unknown.”
At this point, Wen Zhuo met “Li Ping’s” gaze directly, his expression turning more solemn. “You are able to work in General Jun’s tent and assist him in his campaigns in Nanping. If I am not mistaken, you are the Mohist Grand Master of this generation.”
Shen Zheng immediately sat up straight, halting the idle movement of his hands.
He had heard that the requirements for selecting a Mohist Grand Master were exceedingly harsh. Modern scholars claimed that Mozi’s achievements were equivalent to those of all of ancient Greece combined.
Someone selected according to such exacting standards might not surpass Mozi himself, but would still be a supreme talent far beyond the reach of ordinary people.
So this “Li Ping,” dressed in shabby clothes and displaying the utmost humility, was actually a top-tier genius who combined the talents of a mathematician, philosopher, physicist, master craftsman, and elite mercenary?
At last, Jun Dingyuan let out a long sigh. He turned from behind the desk, walked over to “Li Ping,” and bent down to help him up by the arm.
“Senior Brother, get up.”
With Jun Dingyuan’s support, “Li Ping” rose to his feet. He dusted the dirt from his coarse clothing, then bowed to Wen Zhuo and Shen Zheng. By then, he was neither servile nor overbearing.
“My name is Mo Shu. Greetings, Director Wen, Your Highness.”
He knew Wen Zhuo had no intention of harming him. He also knew that Wen Zhuo’s collision had been exceedingly clever, as if it had been aimed directly at him.
But without proof, he would not accuse him rashly.
Now that the truth had been exposed, Jun Dingyuan simply stopped concealing it. He walked to the tent flap, lifted it, and called out loudly, “Bring the medicine chest! Everyone else, keep your distance!”
A moment later, the physician delivered the medicine chest and hurried away.
At that moment, Jun Dingyuan had none of a great general’s imposing airs. He personally carried the medicine chest, helped Mo Shu sit on a bench, then bent down and knelt before him, reaching out to roll up his trouser leg and examine the injury.
Mo Shu hurriedly stopped him. “Huaishen!”
“That’s enough, Senior Brother. Now that someone has seen through us, I can put on the airs of a general when we’re outside. But in private, isn’t it only natural that I tend to your wounds?” Jun Dingyuan paid it no mind. He had always been proud and arrogant, disdaining empty formalities.
After years of campaigning on the battlefield, bumps, sprains, and sword wounds were nothing unusual to them. They could handle such injuries themselves.
Mo Shu found it difficult to refuse in front of outsiders, so he could only let Jun Dingyuan undo his trouser leg and reveal the swollen, reddened ankle beneath.
“Senior Brother? Junior Brother?” Shen Zheng was intensely curious about the two men. How had the young lord of the Marquis’s residence come to be sworn brothers with the Mohist Grand Master of the Mohist Hidden Spirit Sect?
He turned to Wen Zhuo, hoping to see the same astonishment in the little cat’s eyes.
Instead, Wen Zhuo sat upright and composed, watching the scene before him with an expression as calm as still water.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wen Zhuo noticed Shen Zheng looking at him. He saw Shen Zheng’s expression shift from surprise to scrutiny, and finally to a mischievous smile. Only then did Wen Zhuo realize that he had given himself away.
He immediately widened his eyes until they were round and bright, putting on an expression of astonishment.
“General Jun and Mo Shu are actually senior and junior brothers?”
What an acting cat.
Shen Zheng chuckled inwardly. Fine, he was acting quite convincingly. Shen Zheng would let him have it and refrain from exposing him.
Shen Zheng turned back. “What Teacher is curious about is precisely what I wanted to ask.”
Wen Zhuo thought to himself: I managed to fool him. That was close.
From now on, he would have to remember this. Anything he had heard in his previous life needed to be heard again, even if doing so was torture for someone with a photographic memory.
Jun Dingyuan took a packet of powder for reducing swelling and bruising from the medicine chest, unscrewed the lid, and poured some into his palm.
“You were not yet born at the time. Your mother and I were still in the northern frontier. Don’t let its poverty fool you—the northern frontier was full of hidden talents. Your mother was exceptionally gifted and possessed extraordinary martial prowess. None of the burly men in the military camp could defeat her. I was mischievous as a child and was always being chased around by her and beaten. Unwilling to accept it, I decided to seek out another master.”
“I heard there was a recluse nearby who possessed tremendous knowledge. Bold to the point of recklessness, I went into the mountains alone to find him. As expected, I got lost in the woods. Who would have thought that I would be lucky enough to be rescued by someone? That person was Mo Xuli.”
Mo Shu added, “Mo Xuli was my father.”
Jun Dingyuan poured some clean water onto a piece of gauze, spread the medicinal powder evenly across it, and then wrapped the gauze around Mo Shu’s ankle with swift, practiced movements.
“Though I originally went there for the hermit, I’d grown arrogant from being so spoiled in the army. If he couldn’t show me some real skill, I would have turned around and left—and loudly proclaimed that he was a fraud.”
“But after I compared myself with a disciple of Mo Xuli, I was beaten so thoroughly that I finally learned there was always someone better, and that there were greater heights beyond the heavens. At last, I developed a healthy respect for the world.”
“Master didn’t want to take me in at first. But when he heard I was Jun Guangping’s son, he made an exception and agreed to teach me out of consideration for the old man. Still, he forbade me from telling anyone and wouldn’t even let me call myself his disciple.” Jun Dingyuan smiled. “I didn’t care whether he agreed or not. I’ll call myself whatever I please.”
Mo Shu sighed softly. “My father was afraid Huaishen would be implicated. As the Academy Head said, this dynasty strictly forbids the private manufacture of weapons. But that’s impossible for the Mo family. Given Huaishen’s special status, it would be best if he had nothing to do with us.”
Jun Dingyuan wrapped the linen around the wound several times, then pressed the injured area to make sure no bones had been damaged. Only then did he pull over a stool and sit down, continuing, “I secretly went into the mountains to study under him every day without telling anyone. A year later, I was finally able to fight my sister to a standstill.”
Shen Zheng couldn’t help imagining the jade-faced young general being beaten until he squealed by his sister in the bitter north. So that was where all his martial prowess had come from—his mother had beaten it into him.
“Your uncle must have been exceptionally gifted as well.”
“Not by a long shot.” Jun Dingyuan remembered those days and gave a derisive laugh. “Of all Master’s disciples, my senior brother was the most outstanding. No matter how hard I worked—even when I was ready to hang myself from the rafters to stay awake and rise with the rooster—I could never compare with him. That was why I disliked him so much back then and challenged him every day, even though he was a year younger than me.”
Mo Shu shook his head helplessly. “Huaishen is being modest. I had simply studied under my father for longer. I’m no more gifted than he is.”
Wen Zhuo looked toward the main tent once more and felt that time was flying by. Unable to resist, he frantically dragged the progress bar forward.
“How did you end up in Nanping, hiding your identity among the army?”
This time, Mo Shu explained in Jun Dingyuan’s place. “Huaishen was supposed to return to the capital when he was ten, but his studies were not yet complete. My father believed that everything should be seen through to the end. Besides, the Mo family needed to grow and expand, so he took us out of the mountains and built a simple home on the outskirts of the capital, where he taught and accepted disciples. Huaishen often rode over to continue his training. Seven years passed in the blink of an eye, until…”
“Until Liu Kangren was defeated on the southern frontier, and Father ordered me to go there as a hostage. My mother knelt until she fainted and miscarried, but there was nothing she could do to change his mind,” Shen Zheng calmly finished.
Seeing that he wasn’t overly distressed by the matter, Mo Shu nodded and continued, “Huaishen was young and hot-blooded. That very night, he rode alone straight for the southern frontier. He knew that only by defeating Nanping could he save you and reunite you with Consort Liang. My late father feared that, despite his extraordinary abilities, he would act recklessly in the heat of the moment, so he ordered me to go and assist him.”
Wen Zhuo pretended to ponder while actually speeding things up again. “So from then on, you stayed in the southern frontier to help him, while Mo Xuli, having heard that Qiuzhou was suffering from severe flooding, wanted to lead the Mo family’s disciples there to help repair the embankments and keep the people safe. But he never expected Cao Fangzheng to have any genuine intention of repairing them. Cao Fangzheng embezzled the disaster-relief funds, lined his own pockets, and exploited the people. Mo Xuli, holding firmly to the principle of ‘promoting what benefits the world and eliminating what harms the world,’ could not tolerate it and finally rose up in resistance.”
Pain flashed through Mo Shu’s eyes. “We never intended to rebel. We simply had no avenue left to make our case. I did not die alongside the other members of the Mo family because I hoped that one day I could clear the family’s name, so that we might stand proudly beneath heaven and earth once more. When that day comes, I will die without regret.”
“Do you truly have a special method for repairing the embankments?” Shen Zheng asked.
“We do. It would be rather complicated to explain, but it could save more than three million taels in labor and materials.”
Shen Zheng was stunned. So the Mo family’s inheritance really was that miraculous.
How could someone with such abilities casually talk about dying without regret? Did he have any idea how fierce competition was in the modern world? He ought to contribute his share to China’s Industrial Revolution!
Shen Zheng also began rummaging through his mind for fine phrases, just as Wen Zhuo did. He had discovered that this trick worked remarkably well on people from ancient times. No wonder the people who thrived in court were all so well-read.
A sudden inspiration struck him, and he smiled. “I remember Sima Qian wrote in ‘A Letter in Reply to Ren An,’ ‘I regret that I still have matters of the heart left incomplete, and that my humble writings may vanish with me without being passed on to later generations.’ That was why he endured humiliation and completed the Records of the Grand Historian. Sacrificing one’s life for righteousness is worthy of respect, but surviving can be meaningful too. I hope you can live, and leave something behind for future generations.”
Mo Shu looked at Shen Zheng in mild surprise. But they were not close enough to speak from the heart, so after a brief pause, he clasped his fists and said, “I have been instructed.”
Wen Zhuo stared at Shen Zheng, equally shocked. He asked in disbelief, “All the emperors throughout history have upheld Confucianism above all else. Does Your Highness not know why? The Mohist teaching says, ‘Among all the various craftsmen under heaven—those who make wheels, leather goods, pottery, metalwork, carpentry, and so forth—each should pursue the work at which he is capable.’ Can Your Highness truly accept such ideas as well?”
The Daqian dynasty valued scholars and farmers while looking down on merchants and artisans. Since the founding of the country, it had kept an extremely tight rein on the common people. It was only during the reign of Emperor Shunyuan, whose timid nature made him evade trouble whenever possible, that restrictions were gradually loosened. He had even followed the Song system and abolished the curfew.
Yet the measure had also drawn ceaseless criticism from officials throughout the court.
No matter how easygoing and mild-mannered Shen Zheng was, he was still an imperial prince. If he ascended the throne, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t worry about the people developing freely and posing a challenge to imperial authority.
Wen Zhuo didn’t even dare hope that he would allow freedom of speech, much less that he could accept the Mohist doctrines.
“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve already said that no one is inherently noble or base, high or low. Everyone has their own worth. If dignity matters, then so do freedom, individuality, innovation, and individual rights. Wasn’t that why my teacher chose me from among all the princes?”
In his heart, Shen Zheng thought, Isn’t this just reform and opening up? As a proper university graduate raised under nine years of compulsory education, how could he possibly oppose it?
Wen Zhuo was left speechless, staring blankly at him.
Could there truly be something extraordinary about Nanping? How else could it have shaped a prince of Daqian into someone like this?
Jun Dingyuan and Mo Shu were likewise lost in thought.
To people of the Daqian era, these words were no less fantastical than a tale from the heavens. And yet they set their hearts ablaze.
Shen Zheng changed the subject, handing an opening to the stunned little cat who had been rushing the plot along.
“It’s a pity that I’m only a prince for now. At present, Father still has the final say. If Mo Shu wants to plead his case and overturn the verdict, I’m afraid it will be extremely difficult. Besides, he is still a wanted criminal of the court.”
Jun Dingyuan immediately said, “There’s no need to worry about that. Mo Shu’s identity is absolutely confidential in my army. No one knows who he is.”
Wen Zhuo had no choice but to pull himself away from his astonishment for the moment and attend to the day’s business.
“There are no walls in this world without cracks. I was able to discover him today—can General Jun guarantee that no one else will find out later?”
Mo Shu struggled to his feet, smoothed the wrinkles from his coarse clothing, and solemnly promised, “If the truth ever comes to light, I will never implicate any of you.”
That was what Mo Shu said. And that was what he had done in his previous life as well.
Back then, the Third Prince had reported him, and Emperor Shunyuan had flown into a rage. The entire Jun family had been thrown into prison.
Wen Zhuo had only just breathed a sigh of relief after the Crown Prince was deposed and the Worthy Prince’s influence waned. This incident struck him like a bolt from the blue, catching him completely off guard.
A remnant of an evil cult, the son of a traitor, and a wanted criminal of the imperial court—with the evidence conclusive. Jun Dingyuan had kept all of this hidden for more than a decade, but now he could think of no way to avert disaster. The situation he had worked so hard to build was about to be destroyed.
In truth, Shen Ting had given Wen Zhuo no time to devise a plan. Shen Ting was determined to make this a closed-and-shut case and eliminate Shen Chen. Thus, the Three Judicial Offices interrogated Mo Shu through the night, using every torture device in turn. He lost consciousness several times, only to be jolted awake by cold water.
Wen Zhuo could do nothing but sit numbly on the freezing stone stool, waiting for the sword hanging over his head to fall.
The moment Mo Shu could no longer withstand the torture and confessed, the entire Jun family would die. As Shen Chen’s adopted daughter and granddaughter, Consort Yi would inevitably be implicated as well—and everything Wen Zhuo had worked for would be lost.
Yet Mo Shu endured every punishment. He insisted that he alone had deceived and manipulated Jun Dingyuan, and that the entire Jun family had known nothing of it.
Shen Ting was desperate to seize Mo Shu’s fingers and force him to sign the confession, but with Xue Chongnian present, he did not dare go too far.
That very night, Mo Shu used a wooden splint to pierce his own throat and took his life in the prison.
Even so, Jun Dingyuan was demoted to the lowest rank and spent an entire year behind bars. It was only after Jun Guangping starved himself to death to prove his family’s innocence that Emperor Shunyuan relented and released Jun Dingyuan, Consort Liang, and Consort Yi.
“Isn’t it a little too late to think of making amends after something has already happened?” Wen Zhuo raised his injured hand, his tone suddenly turning stern. “Under military law, I should strike you seventy times for today’s injury. General Jun could barely bring himself to issue the order. Do you truly think the Three Judicial Offices of the imperial court are merely for show? The brutal tortures they employ would make anyone wish they had never been born! Even if you could withstand the torture without confessing, could General Jun really stand by and watch you die?”
He had not seen Mo Shu being tortured, but he had endured torture himself.
At the mere recollection of what had happened, his chest roiled, and he felt as though he might vomit.
Those words left Mo Shu utterly speechless.
Shen Zheng did not notice Wen Zhuo’s trembling at that moment. He had been reminded of Wen Zhuo’s fate in the History of Qian—the brief line of text had sent a chill through him.
Now, even when Wen Zhuo cut his palm and shed only two drops of blood, Shen Zheng felt a faint ache in his heart. He did not dare imagine the entire month hidden behind those words.
Supporting Mo Shu, Jun Dingyuan spoke in a voice heavy with grief. “Director Wen, must my senior brother truly remain hidden for the rest of his life, never to see the light of day?”
“If this is the only path to avoid disaster, then I am unworthy of being Your Highness’s strategist.” Wen Zhuo slowly lifted his eyes. In the candlelight, he looked dazzlingly elegant, utterly confident that victory was within reach. “Misfortune may be the seed of fortune, and fortune may conceal the roots of misfortune. I intend to remove this weakness from the Jun family, allow Mo Shu to stand openly in the world, and make him Your Highness’s minister of state.”
